On the Waterfront Page #9

POP:

You are like—

EDIE:

(with regret and affection)

Pop!

She turns and runs out. Pop with his belt in one hand, takes a few

steps after her and then stops and stares at the unused bus ticket.

POP:

(shaking his head as he mutters)

Jesus, Mary and Joseph, keep an eye on her.

EXT—TENEMENT ROOFTOP—EVENING

Autumn on the roof. It is not particularly romantic—there are

clotheslines, wooden boxes, etc. But to the people of this neighborhood

it is a luxurious terrace. Terry's birds are aloft, flying in a great

circle, nicely silhouetted against the sun-drenched evening sky. Jimmy

Conners is with him.

Terry has a long pole with which he keeps the birds circling. Moose is

leaning against the wall, playing an Irish melody on his harmonica. His

wife, a heavyset woman, sits beside him.

MOOSE'S WIFE

(Moving her feet)

My feet feels like dancin'. But the rest of me just

feels like settin' here.

MEDIUM SHOT—TERRY

As he swings his pole he looks off and sees—

LONG SHOT—EDIE—ROOFTOP—EVENING

Hurrying toward him across the rooftops.

MEDIUM CLOSE—TERRY—ROOFTOP—EVENING

Catching sight of her, and stopping to admire her as she comes toward

him.

TERRY:

(to Jimmy)

Okay— I guess they got enough exercise. Let 'em come in.

He puts down the pole and the birds start flying down toward the coop.

He sees Edie approach.

JIMMY:

I wonder how long she's goin' to hang

around, huh, Terry?

TERRY:

(indicating the pigeons)

Be sure they got enough water.

And he turns to await Edie.

SHOT—BRINGING EDIE TO TERRY

EDIE:

I changed my mind. I feel real mean

tonight.

TERRY:

(pleased)

Good. So do I.

As Jimmy goes off to fetch some water, Edie reads the fancy lettering

on the back of his jacket.

EDIE:

The Golden Warriors.

TERRY:

I started them Golden Warriors. I was

their first Supreme Commander.

Now Jimmy starts back toward them.

TERRY:

My shadow. He follows me around like I was

Mickey Mantle. Thinks I'm a big man because I

boxed pro for a while.

(throws a few quick jabs)

Several pigeons swoop down and enter the coop. He nods towards her.

TERRY:

Here they come! The champion flock of the neighborhood.

EDIE:

You don't mind yourself at all, do you.

(turns to the birds)

Joey used to race pigeons.

TERRY:

(darkening)

He had a few birds.

(pauses, nods toward Joey's coop across the roof)

I got up and fed 'em this morning.

EDIE:

That was nice of you.

TERRY:

(disconcerted, needing to talk)

I like pigeons. You send a bird five hundred miles

away he won't stop for food or water until he's back

in his own coop.

EDIE:

I wouldn't have thought you'd be so interested

—in pigeons.

TERRY:

I go for this stuff. You know this city's full

of hawks? There must be twenty thousand of 'em.

They perch on top of the big hotels and swoop

down on the pigeons in the park.

EDIE:

(slightly horrified)

The things that go on.

TERRY:

(proudly indicating a large pigeon in the coop)

How do you like that one?

EDIE:

Oh she's a beauty.

JIMMY:

(critically)

She's a he. His name is Swifty.

TERRY:

My lead bird. He's always on that top

perch.

EDIE:

He looks awful proud of himself.

JIMMY:

Why shouldn't he? He's the boss.

TERRY:

If another fella tries to take that perch

away from him, he lets him have it.

EDIE:

Even pigeons aren't peaceful.

TERRY:

One thing about them though, they're

faithful. They get married just like people.

JIMMY:

Better.

TERRY:

Yeah, once they're mated they stay

together all their lives until one of 'em dies.

EDIE:

That's nice.

They look at each other, both strangely upset.

TERRY:

(suddenly)

Listen, you like beer?

EDIE:

I don't know.

TERRY:

Want to go out and have one with me?

EDIE:

In a saloon?

TERRY:

(imploring)

Come on, I know a quiet one,

with a special entrance for ladies... .

DISSOLVE:

INT—SALOON—LADIES' SIDE—NIGHT

Perhaps a sign can emphasize Ladies' Entrance. As Terry leads Edie in,

a tipsy Irish biddy is noisily protesting her enforced departure.

WOMAN:

—I'm only after havin' one more wee bit—

BARTENDER:

You and your one-mores. Now beat it.

As Terry and Edie reach the bar, the radio blares a baseball game. A

roar goes up from the speaker. Bartender nods to Terry. In the corner a

small well-oiled longshoreman sings "I'll Take You Home Again,

Kathleen" in a plaintive, cracking voice.

BARTENDER:

Well, what do you know—Jackie

just stole home.

TERRY:

(glancing at Edie with a mischievous wink at the

bartender)

I wouldn't mind doing that myself.

The bartender grins. Terry guides Edie to a small table.

BARTENDER:

(to Edie)

What're you drinking?

Edie hesitates, obviously not knowing what to ask for. A customer at

the bar says, loudly—

SINGER OF "KATHLEEN"

(B.G.)

Give me a Glockenheimer.

EDIE:

(it could be root beer for all she knows)

I'll try a— Glockenheimer.

TERRY:

(to bartender)

Likewise. And draw two for chasers.

(to Edie)

Now you're beginning to live.

EDIE:

(as the drinks are poured)

I am?

Edie picks up her glass, sniffs the contents with some distaste and

then sips it tentatively. Terry watches with amusement.

TERRY:

(still swaggering)

Not that way— like this.

(holds glass up)

Down the hatch!

(gulps it down)

Wham!

Edie takes her drink and does likewise. She gasps and her eyes pop.

EDIE:

(with soft amazement)

Wham... .

TERRY:

(grinning at her)

How do you like it?

EDIE:

It's quite—

(gulps)

–nice.

TERRY:

How about another one?

EDIE:

(already feeling this one)

No thanks... .

TERRY:

(to bartender)

Hit me again, Mac.

BARTENDER:

(as he pours drink)

See the fight last night? That Riley—both hands.

Little bit on your style.

TERRY:

Hope he has better luck.

EDIE:

Were you really a prize fighter?

TERRY:

(nods)

I went pretty good for a while, didn't I, Al?

But— I didn't stay in shape— and—

(a little ashamed)

—I had to take a few dives.

EDIE:

A dive? You mean, into the water?

TERRY:

(laughs harshly)

Naw, in the ring, a dive is-

He stops, shakes his head and with his finger draws an invisible square

in the air.

EDIE:

(mystified)

Now what are you doing?

TERRY:

Describing you. A square from out there.

I mean you're nowhere.

(draws it again)

Miss Four Corners.

EDIE:

(smiles, but persistent)

What made you want to be a fighter?

TERRY:

I had to scrap all my life. Figured I might

as well get paid for it. When I was a kid my old

man got killed—never mind how. Charley and I

was put in a place—they called it a Children's

Home. Some home! I run away and peddled

papers, fought in club smokers and—

(catches himself)

But what am I runnin' off at the mouth for?

What do you care?

EDIE:

Shouldn't we care about everybody?

TERRY:

What a fruitcake you are!

EDIE:

Isn't everybody part of everybody else?

Rate this script:3.7 / 3 votes